Fulfilled Desire
by thunderings
Summary: Three kisses, three different men. Three times Esmeralda has been kissed. Book verse.


**T**itle: Fulfilled Desire  
**P**airing(s): Phoebus/Esmeralda, Frollo/Esmeralda, Quasimodo/Esmeralda  
**W**arnings: Mild sensuality.  
**A**/N: Written in one night, which is a shock for me as it usually takes me weeks to write something. This is based on the book, while I have took some creative liberties. This wasn't betaed, so all the mistakes are of my own accord.

-

The first is her fairy tale. _Her love story._ It's the kiss all girls dream and wish and long for, and Esmeralda has finally experienced it.

As her fairy tale prince Phoebus (_shining golden hair that could rival the sun, blue eyes as deep as the ocean, and a smile as dazzling as the stars in the ebony sky; oh yes, he is certainly a prince) _kisses her, she chants their names together over and over in her head like a mantra, or a witch's spell. _Esmeralda and Phoebus. Phoebus and Esmeralda. Esmeralda de __Châteaupeurs._ It has a certain ring to it and she imagines it will look especially nice when she embroiderers her initials on everything when they are married.

She envisions their initials will look quite grand in imported golden thread as he begins to undo the ties in her dress. In the back of her mind something tells her that this isn't right at all, and to put a stop to this _now. _However, Esmeralda is young and naïve and believes that giving herself to Phoebus will surely be the beginning of an everlasting dream.

Suddenly, (_oh yes quite suddenly) _a demon, a specter, a shadow creature, _(a priest) _appears out of nowhere and stabs her prince with a cursed blade. Esmeralda can only watch as her prince falls unto the bed with his glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling. Her cries echo off the walls, and wish as she might, no good fairy or sorcerer comes to her aid, only soldiers that deem her the wicked witch that has suddenly wrecked havoc on everyone.

Esmeralda knows without as shadow of a doubt that her fairytale has ended, as she is taken away in chains.

-

The second she recoils from, for it is hell sealed in a kiss. The priest's lips are searing hot against her own, while his frigid arms slip around her waist. There is so much emotion put into the kiss that even Esmeralda is taken aback.

She knows very little about religious rules and regulations, but she gathers that a priest kissing a girl, (_a gypsy no less) _is forbidden. Even still, this particular Priest (_his name escapes her) _doesn't appear as morally sound like the others she's seen around Notre Dame. During her short time in Quasimodo's care, Esmeralda had once slipped away from his protection to vanquish her childish curiosity of witnessing what Sunday mass looked like. There had been rows and rows of Priest's whispering prayers in tongues that were foreign to her, with eyes shut closed like a locked box. _Except one. _Esmeralda had recognized this certain priest, and was confused to why his piercing eyes remained open and defiant, and how he didn't recite with the others. Before she could ponder as to why, Quasimodo had appeared by her side and taken her small hand, and said in his broken voice: "_It's not safe for you to be here."_

Esmeralda wants to push him away, and say a prayer to the Virgin Mary and ask for forgiveness for both of their souls. What they are doing is a taboo; even a gypsy girl with no knowledge of such things knows this. However the priest's hold on her is strong, surprisingly so as he appears much older than he would appear. Finally he lets her go slowly, with dark piercing eyes wanting more than a simple kiss could ever give. Esmeralda backs away until she feels the cold and wet stone wall against her body. There is nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide; she can only imagine the explicit thoughts running in the priest's mind like a montage as he makes his way towards her. Just as he is about to press his lips against hers again, the cell door opens loudly with a creak.

"Alright priest, the gypsy's had enough time to confess to the Lord. Time for hangin' is almost upon us," a guard says with little emotion. Esmeralda cannot help but let out a sigh of relief has the priest edges away, and then climbs the steps out of the cell. With one final lustful glance, he leaves behind a weeping girl.

-

The third cannot be perfectly described in words. Esmeralda is crying and sobbing after the priest had touched her in ways she had wished only her _darling _Phoebus would. Her skin feels dirty and grimy and _oh_ how she wishes she could wash herself clean. Yet she is stuck in this cathedral with no where to go (_gypsies don't do well behind stone walls),_ for all of Paris wants her dead. She sinks down to the cold stone floor, and pulls the thin white chemise over her cold legs. However soon enough, she can feel the heat radiating from Quasimodo's body as he limps up from behind, and hesitatingly stands close. Normally she'd hurl an insult, or tell him to leave so she can't see his twisted form, but not tonight. Tonight is reserved for crying and overall just _letting go. _For this one night, Esmeralda doesn't care about the timid hunchback that can barely stutter more than two words to her before fleeing from shyness.

_What she does not expect is for Quasimodo to rest a hand on her shoulder reassuringly._

_What she does not expect is that she suddenly throws herself into his arms and sobs._

Esmeralda crushes her face into his neck and sobs like her heart is breaking. She feels Quasimodo tense for a fraction of a second, before embracing her affectionately. They remain like this for several minutes; there aren't any words exchanged save for Esmeralda's weeping. And then, ever so slowly, Quasimodo lightly brushes his lips against Esmeralda's. She of course is stunned beyond recognition, for _this _is the man that can barely even look at her square in the face without blushing several shades of crimson.

The kiss is short and evanescent, and Esmeralda might even forget it in the morning. It is not a fairytale kiss that she will dream about for nights to come, and it is not full of lust and hidden passion that will forever plague her mind. _No, _it is everything and anything; it's Quasimodo's thoughts and feelings and dreams molded into one simple action.

Quasimodo then wordlessly picks Esmeralda up, and carries her to her makeshift bed. She says nothing as he lays her down, covers her with a blanket, and brushes away a few rogue tears that fall from her eyes. Esmeralda is moved over his kindness, and chides herself for acting like a selfish child to the man that would give his life for her in a heartbeat.

"I-I'm sorry for acting so childish…a-and treating you so horridly…" Esmeralda says softly, wishing that she were better with words, and could come up with a better way of thanking him.

"It's alright," Quasimodo replies faintly, as he stands by the doorway with a small smile.

"Will you…be watching over me?" She asks.

"_Always. _Until the end of time." Then he leaves, ready to begin his watch, even if it means staying up until the fiery sun begins its ascension, and the silvery moon descends from its place in the heavens.

-

Three kisses, three different men, three different meanings. As the noose is tied around Esmeralda's neck, she thinks back to each kiss. The kiss she thought was her fairytale has lost its magic and beauty, and is now just another moment in her too short life. Unlike the tales, she is not going to be saved by her Phoebus, as she realizes now he is just another villain.

Esmeralda doesn't dwell too much on the kiss from the priest, (_she swears her lips still burn even now) _but wonders if perhaps if she had consented, could he have saved her from this cruel fate? Esmeralda gulps as the noose is tied tighter and thinks _no, _her fate has long since been sealed in the lines on her hands.

As the executioner takes his place, Esmeralda then thinks of Quasimodo. His kiss was fleeting and dreamlike, as if being kissed by an angel. There wasn't any hidden motives, nor was it fueled by lust, it was just simply driven by pure unadulterated _love. _She smiles ever so faintly as she casts her eyes towards Notre Dame, and thinks perhaps she sees Quasimodo watching in apparent pain.

"The ugliest and most feared of us all was the only one able to truly love," Esmeralda whispers softly.

And then her world goes black.


End file.
